Playing with Fire
by Storywh0re
Summary: Adrian gets a surprise visit while trying to get away from it all. Prequel to "Beauty and the Beast", set a few years earlier. Final version of previously posted fic. I gave my friend a prompt--"Adrian Builds a Fire"--and got my own ideas for it.


_These characters, their universe and canon storyline are not mine._

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Adrian Veidt knelt next to the fireplace, and added a log to the steadily cracking blaze.

His cabin in the upstate woods, a little under two hours outside of the city, was providing a welcome respite. Business had been stressful lately, and the grim progression of the Doomsday Clock across the new24-hour news network hadn't didn't exactly help much. For Adrian, the natural world held a simplicity that helped put things in perspective.

With the metal fireplace poker, he pushed the new log back into the cheerful flames. The leaves were beginning to turn, in that vibrant palette characteristic of this part of the county. While the sunlight could still be uncomfortably warm during the day, the nights in the mountains were cold, leaving the dew was frozen on the living grass in the mornings. The cabin did have baseboard heat, but Adrian had enjoyed a good fire since the scouting days of his youth. He would leave this one burning until it was time to retire to bed.

He took a seat in the beaten-up, high-backed armchair across from the fire. From the open briefcase next to it, he gingerly drew the latest copy of _The New Frontiersman. _He hadn't missed the confusion on the news vendor's face—the man obviously recognized him. He had jokingly considered asking for a brown paper bag, so that it would look like he had bought pornography instead.

He didn't make it more than a page and a half before throwing it down to the floor. "Why do I do this to myself?" he asked aloud. But he knew why. He had no intention of changing his mind. He didn't want to change. But he did want to understand.

He had understood as much as he thought he could for the night, however. Instead, he drew out his copy of Stranger in a Strange Land and picked up where he left off. He put his feet up on the matching ottoman before him, much more at ease with Valentine Michael Smith's familiar company. He had completed one chapter and just begun another one when there was a knock at the door.

Adrian was startled, and raised his defenses as he rose from the chair and walked to the door. He had not heard any cars approach, had not seen headlights through the window in his peripheral vision. He wasn't expecting anyone, either.

He could not have been any more surprised by who greeted him when he opened the door.

"Rorschach! What are you doing here?"  
"Hello to you, too, Veidt," the other man replied, shouldering past him into the room.

"Do come in," Adrian said sarcastically after him.

"Not bad," Rorschach said, looking around. "Less excessive than your usual."

"I suppose so," Adrian said. "To be honest, I came out here to be on my own."

Even as he spoke, he regretted it, realizing what a rare and precious opportunity he had here. He glanced at the microwave clock in the kitchenette, but wasn't sure if he did so to make sure Rorschach left by a certain time, or to make sure he stayed there there past a certain time. It was only nine o'clock.

"Won't keep you long," Rorschach replied. "Just came to give you this." He handed Adrian a manila envelope. "Results of the investigation."

"It's really none of my business," Adrian said, but hesitantly reached and took the envelope anyway.

Rorschach shrugged. "Thought you'd be curious. Would like to do this again."

That made sense to Adrian. He settled back down in the armchair, and pulled out the envelope's contents. It was full of copied memoranda and ledger sheets, some highlighted and circled in places, and a few grainy photographs.

As Adrian read, Rorschach headed over to the fireplace and stooped next to it, holding out his hands. Adrian watched him over the top edge of the paper. The expression on the other man's face could not be said to be a smile, but was more open and relaxed than Adrian ever seen before.

"Don't see this every day," Rorschach said.

"Yes, it's one of the things I like about this cabin," Adrian agreed.

"It's just....usually if you see it in the city, it's not under control like this."

That's when Adrian realized that he was talking about the fire _itself_ and not the fireplace.

"Unless it's at a hibachi grill," Adrian observed playfully.

"Heh. If you call that under control," Rorschach replied. He turned back to the fire. "Better than television, anyway."

Somehow, none of this surprised Adrian. By reputation, Rorschach was associated with several building blazes. Some he'd started, some he'd rescued people from...and in an a few cases, he'd done both on the same occasion.

At about this point, however, Adrian reached the last page of the report. It was simply a typed paragraph of the conclusions Rorschach had drawn from the preceding evidence.

"Son. Of. A. Bitch." Adrian said when he read. Rorschach snorted. "No, seriously. That son of a bitch. I never would have thought it of him."

"I would," Rorschach said. "Cheats on his wife, too."

Adrian shook his head. "Well, that's between you and her, now, I suppose. But I was invited out to lunch with the board just last week."  
"Then you had to have known that the embezzler might be there," Rorschach said. He stood and strolled closer.

Adrian put the pages down in his lap, then met Rorschach's gaze.

"How did you get out here, anyway?" Adrian asked him.

"Borrowed Dreiberg's car," he answered. "Killed the lights coming in, parked about ten yards away."

Adrian was duly impressed. "You know what, though? I don't think that this--" he shook the papers "--is why you're here."

Rorschach raised his nose upward just slightly. "Is that so?"

"It is," Adrian answered. He clasped his hands on over the papers. "I think you're here on the other matter."

The Other Matter. They both knew what he referred to. Shortly after they had started working together, a vulgar, mocking threat during a fight had turned to a serious counter-offer.

_You'd like that, wouldn't you? _

_Well, actually..._

Rorschach was silent for a long time. "You're right." He stepped closer. "I came out here to prove that I could find you. To prove that I could sneak up on you." Adrian wondered vaguely what awaited him when he returned: a busted lock on one of his desks, or the resignation of an unhurt but terrified laborer, like one of the groundskeepers who sometimes came out here. "Most of all, I did come out here to give you an answer."

"Really?" Adrian replied, fighting to keep his voice even. "Please do, then."

"It's never going to happen, Veidt," Rorschach said. "What you're offering—what you're talking about—it's an abomination. Degradation. It can't happen."

"Hmm," Adrian said, definitely feeling set back but trying to play it cool. "Very well, then. I hope you'll still consider taking assignments such as these."

Rorschach tilted his head quizzically. "You don't believe me."

"I believe that you mean what you say," Adrian replied. "I also believe that never is a long time."

"Oh, yeah?" Rorschach rushed forward, and pinned his arms to the chair with surprising strength. Adrian tensed, but remained calm. "Think what you want. But I'm sayin' it again: it'll never happen."

Then a strange thing happened. Not releasing his hold on Adrian, Rorschach leaned closer to him and inhaled deeply through his nose.

"You've been here for a while, haven't you?"

"What?"

"Fooling with the fire, I mean."

"I guess so," Adrian said, not quite sure where this was going. The fire had been going for a while and—oh, right, the damper hadn't been all the way open at first. "Why?"

Rorschach straightened up just slightly, and released one of Adrian's arms. "Woodsmoke. Suits you better than that rancid swill you try to sell."

Adrian couldn't help it: he had to laugh, even if it was just a soft chuckle, to hear Rorschach say this on the heels of his other protestations. With his free hand, he grabbed the other man by the upper arm and pulled him closer.

"Glad you approve," he murmured. Then he kissed him.

Rorschach tensed predictably, unyielding as a frightened cat. With infuriating ease, Adrian slipped his pinned arm out of Rorschach's grasp, and put his hand at the back of the other man's head, fingers threaded carefully through the bright hair. Rorschach tried to pull away at first, but as Adrian continued, kissing harder then softer then harder again, altering the placement of his lips slightly as well, he felt the other man's resistance dissolve.

"Oh, God," Rorschach whispered, as Adrian paused after barely grazing his upper lip with his tongue.

There was an awkward squeak across the wood floor, as Rorschach hooked the ottoman with his foot and pulled it closer. Adrian did not have to be told what to do. He stretched his legs out on the ottoman, as Rorschach stepped aside and pushed it against the chair. Rorschach then moved back to straddle him, his knees on the chair itself.

"This doesn't mean," he said to Adrian, "that I've changed my mind."

"Of course not," Adrian said, keeping sarcasm from his tone to avoid ruining the moment. "Just because this is happening doesn't mean that you've accepted my proposition."

"Exactly." Rorschach cast a glance down to what Adrian was wearing. "This isn't a bad look for you, you know. A little different." Adrian was wearing khaki pants and a long-sleeved, dark purple shirt of high-quality flannel.

"Um...thanks?" Adrian said. "You've gone a different way yourself." It was true. The other man was in a long-sleeved plaid shirt and denim jacket. "Here," Adrian said, "Let me help you with that." Rorschach cooperated as Adrian helped him slip free of the jacket. Adrian relished the brief sensation of the strong but wiry form underneath as he did so.

"Why are you doing this, anyway?" Rorschach asked. "Why me? Is it the challenge?"

"I would be lying if I said that the challenge was...anything less than intoxicating," Adrian admitted candidly. "But emptying a lake with a teaspoon would be challenge, too. There are plenty of challenges in this world that _don't _appeal to me."

Rorschach didn't respond to that at first, but merely regarded Adrian, thoughtful but impassive. Then he unbuttoned the first button of Adrian's shirt.

Adrian hadn't realized it until that second, but he'd been leaning forward. Now he relaxed, leaning back against the chair. He also suddenly noticed the sweat cooling down the middle of his chest. His breath caught in his throat as Rorschach gently ran his thumb along Adrian's collarbone.

From there, Rorschach's hand slid up to his shoulder. He seemed to savor the feel of Adrian's strong muscles and smooth skin. Adrian pulled him close once more, for another long and tauntingly varied kiss. This time, it was quickly returned in kind. As they paused for breath, Rorschach brought his face inches from Adrian's hair and inhaled deeply again. Adrian wondered if his hair smelt like woodsmoke, too.

Adrian spoke, close to the other man's ear. "If you agreed, if we did get together," he began, "it would be _amazing. _I could make you feel _so good, _Rorschach. I promise."

He must have pitched his voice just right—a characteristic trick of his—because Rorschach shivered in a way that could only be pleasant. "Indecency," he muttered, breathing hard. By this point, his hand was frozen where it had stopped on Adrian's shoulder.

Adrian shook his head. "Just let me show you," he continued. "There is so much more to life than pain and darkness."

Here, Rorschach pulled away from him. "Might not be much life left for the world."  
Unfortunately, Adrian couldn't argue with that. "All the more reason."

Rorschach reached down to undo two more buttons. Adrian thought to himself that if this was an attempt to get him to shut up, it was probably going to work. The other man slipped in both hands in this time, running them over the well-sculpted muscles of Adrian's chest. His touch was inexperienced, but still felt wonderful. As Rorschach traced slowly down Adrian's sternum with his first and second finger, Adrian sucked in deep breath, the better to feel it.

"Oh, that feels good," he said, eyes closing halfway. This was rewarded with a chuckle and wry half-smile, and the undoing of the last three buttons. Adrian himself untucked the shirt.

Rorschach's exploration of Adrian's body resumed from there. Adrian noticed that he made no move to open the shirt so that he could see better, or to remove it, which is what Adrian would have done. This left them both in a delicious sort of blindness. He also noticed that the other man's hands were wonderfully calloused and rough—not to the point that it hurt, but just enough to remind Adrian of who hewas with. Those hands played over his chest again, then slid down with exquisite slowness over the chiseled lines of his stomach.

Adrian caught and held his companion's gaze, his head swimming. He could not believe his luck, could not believe that this was finally happening, could not believe that this was _Rorschach. _He had wanted this for so long, even just a taste. But, oh—he looked over the other man's shoulder, and there was the fire in the fireplace, and a rug _right in front_ of it, and, oh, he had to close his eyes against the images that rose unbidden in his mind.

No. Too feminine, somehow---too much like a scene from a bad paperback romance. Besides, most of the acts he had just imagined—given and received—were things that Rorschach insisted would _never_ happen, even if he accepted Adrian's proposition.

He was pulled back to the present by the sensation of hands traveling back up his sides. The fingertips hit first, causing him to twitch involuntarily with ticklishness. But Rorschach took notice, and soon broad, warm palms skimmed across his ribs instead.

As those hands rose, they found the now-taut flesh of Adrian's nipples. Adrian flinched slightly at first, as Rorschach's thumb grazed him the wrong way on the right. Then, however, he began rubbing careful circles, first on that side at then the other, with just the right amount of pressure. Adrian collapsed bonelesslyback into the chair. He never would have imagined that Rorschach was capable of this level of gentleness. He tilted his head upward and he muttered a barely audible exultation in his native German, not particularly directed to himself or to Rorschach.

Rorschach paused at this, sliding his hands down a bit bit not removing them. "You all right?" he asked. "Having a good time?"

Adrian nodded vigorously, his eyes wide. "You?" His companion's only response was to smile slightly again, and avert his gaze shyly.

Adrian brought his arm around to Rorschach's upper back, and pulled him in for another kiss. This time, he was more daring, more exploratory with his tongue. This was only returned for an instant, but certainly wasn't rejected.

Kissing in this way was always more about sensation than about taste for Adrian—most people had more _flavor_ than he cared for, and that was neither more nor less true this time. It still felt nice.

Rorschach moaned slightly as they parted.

"Ah," Adrian said, his lips passing close to his companion's jawline. "Liked that, did you?"

Rorschach nodded.

Adrian exclaimed inside. He had him! He had him, he had him, he had him.

Just then, Rorschach shifted against him in a way that made them both aware of how excited the other was. Adrian arched his back and gave an unseemly gasp.

Then he cupped the other man's hind quarters with his hands and, mercilessly, pulled him closer. Rorschach tried not to react, but clenched his teeth almost imperceptibly.

"Look," he told Rorschach, his voice still pitched to the situation, "you don't have to rush off. You don't even have to leave tonight. This is the perfect opportunity...miles away from everyone, and I don't think anyone's expecting either of us for a while."

Rorschach thought about it. He was good at hiding such things, but Adrian could see it plainly.

"Still have to consider," he replied after a second.

_"_Very well," Adrian said. "While you're considering, though...how about we switch places?" He grinned wickedly.

This time, Rorschach's normal, inscrutable expression dropped altogether. What Adrian had just suggested, he wanted....and that fact terrified him.

"That's not what I meant," Rorschach answered, scooting back and standing up from the furniture. "Dreiberg _is _expecting me. Promised I'd have the car back before midnight. To keep myself honest. I should go now."

Adrian's heart sank. He had forgotten about the car.

"Wait," he said, "Just to be clear: the question is still on the table?"

Rorschach nodded gravely.

Adrian stood carefully, the clamorous urging of his body making movement more complicated. "Well, he said, "looks like we're back to where we were before tonight." He smirked, handing Rorschach his coat from the floor. "So glad you stopped by, though."

Rorschach narrowed his eyes as he took the coat, but his overall manner was indulgent. "Guess we are." He bent and pulled the _New Frontiersman _from the briefcase next to the chair. "Can I take this with me, though? I haven't had a chance to pick it up yet." It was his turn to smirk triumphantl.

"Oh, please do," Adrian said, trying to cover his embarrassment with contempt for the publication. "I couldn't possibly get through it."

"See ya 'round, Veidt," Rorschach said.

Adrian waited until the door closed behind his visitor. "I don't doubt that at all," he said.

Still somewhat light-headed, he walked over to the window. He watched Rorschach's figure recede until it disappeared behind the tree-line. An instant later, headlights flooded the dark and then glided away.

Adrian wondered what kind of driver Rorschach could possibly be. If he were to hazard a guess, Dan would get his car back unharmed, after it had been driven in a manner that Dan would not approve. But then, he'd been surprised to learn that Rorschach was a driver in the first place. He knew a number of people who had lived their whole lives in the city who had never bothered to learn the skill.

He slumped against the door of the cabin and laughed. There he was—his shirt unbuttoned, his body throbbing uncomfortably in several places, sweat pouring down his back. He was frustrated, irritated and confused...and happier than he had been in a long time. Giddily, unaccountably happy. He was _hopeful._

_"_ Why do I do this to myself?" he asked, for the second time that night. And for the second time, he already knew the answer.

He walked to the kitchenette, where a paper shopping bag sat on the counter. He carried it into the bedroom of the cabin, where his suitcase lay open on the floor to be re-packed.

From the shopping bag, he drew three small pillar candles, made from local beeswax. He had picked them up from a roadside shop the day before, on his way in. They were smooth and plain, without any kitschy honey-comb shape or scents that might offend certain defensive sensibilities. He had thought about leaving them at the cabin, but now he had other plans.

"So, you like playing with fire, do you, Rorschach?" he said. "Next time." He put back the candles, folded the bag, and put it in the suitcase. "Next time."


End file.
